At Red Bridge, there are two volunteers that come in every Tuesday to help shelve our children's books. I have only been at the branch for less than a month and had previously only seen them in passing. Today, I was invited to a Christmas Luncheon at Center High School. I had no idea what to expect, besides free food. What I gained was so much more than free food.
Our two volunteers are part of a School-to-Work transition program. From the ages of 18 to 21, they learn life skills so that they may go out into the world and provide for themselves. These young adults typically have mental or physical conditions that make it harder for them to process things and be self-sufficient. However, that doesn't mean that they can't attain that. Far from it, these two volunteers invited us to this luncheon. They prepared the menu, shopped for all of the ingredients, fixed the food, and served it to us. Then, they provided us with good company as we ate. I never had a chance to talk to these two before today, and seeing the kinds of things that they can do now, in part because of the library, really touched me. Not only do they volunteer at Red Bridge, but they also volunteer at a not-for-profit dance studio where they organize materials and even measure fabric for adjustments and mending. They also love playing with the dog there.
I went to the library many times as a kid, and I always loved reading the Goosebumps books there. When I got to high school, that all changed and I hardly ever went to the library. It wasn't until I started working in Blue Springs that I realized how infinitely important libraries are. Libraries are not just about books. The services that they provide are invaluable. These aren't even the most telling stories of the importance of libraries. The most telling stories are the ones like Josh and Sarah. These guys have lived through adversity and are poised to make it through the world knowing that they can do what they set their minds to. They are applying for jobs, and are also applying for the THRIVE program at UCM, designed to help them the extra steps of the way and offering them a certificate of life skills that will help them in the workforce.
I fell in love with libraries 3 years ago, and days like today make me proud that I can be a part of something like this, and a part of people's lives. As we were getting ready to leave, Sarah gave me a hug. I had only met her today, but she came to me with arms outstretched, just as the library did with her. Hug a librarian this week, just to thank them for the things that they do, even if it's not overt.
Friday, December 16, 2011
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
It's Beginning to Look A Lot Like Christmas
Today, the computer pods were put into place. Thankfully, they were only SITTING IN THE MIDDLE OF THE FLOOR for two days. Besides the fact that the final blueprint changed thrice since we had last talked about them, they look really great! I think that the patrons will really like them. The print station is even between them so it is more accessible.
After lunch, I decided that I should put up the Christmas Tree that we got from my former branch, Blue Springs South. I have to say that everyone was pretty excited to have a tree. Granted, there weren't a lot of lights on it, but I think just having the tree up helped the atmosphere of the library. For an added touch, we wrapped some boxes (and maybe a ream of paper) as gifts to place under the tree. It was a lot of fun, and again I was told that it was nice to have me there.
When I first took the job, I was very excited. Then, when I started the job, I was distraught. I didn't think that I was cut out for managing, or even for the Red Bridge Branch. I'm starting to get the feeling that maybe I was meant to be here. You can call it whatever you want, but I like to think that the branch librarian knew exactly what he was doing by hiring a person with an opposite personality.
I am glad that someone likes my ideas though.
After lunch, I decided that I should put up the Christmas Tree that we got from my former branch, Blue Springs South. I have to say that everyone was pretty excited to have a tree. Granted, there weren't a lot of lights on it, but I think just having the tree up helped the atmosphere of the library. For an added touch, we wrapped some boxes (and maybe a ream of paper) as gifts to place under the tree. It was a lot of fun, and again I was told that it was nice to have me there.
When I first took the job, I was very excited. Then, when I started the job, I was distraught. I didn't think that I was cut out for managing, or even for the Red Bridge Branch. I'm starting to get the feeling that maybe I was meant to be here. You can call it whatever you want, but I like to think that the branch librarian knew exactly what he was doing by hiring a person with an opposite personality.
I am glad that someone likes my ideas though.
Saturday, December 10, 2011
Rooms & Pods
Even though today was a very long day, it was a good day. Besides the theatre, I was able to actually voice my opinion about branch issues. That wasn't all; I felt like someone listened to me. Red Bridge is getting new computer tables. Instead of rectangular tables for 12 computers, we will have two pods that are hexagonal. They are apparently modern and cool, but I guess I'll find out on Monday when they are dropped off. These pods will be great for patrons because the computers will be positioned in such a way that they will have more room and more privacy. I think it's a good thing; it'll just take people a minute to adjust. The regional manager came out to talk to us about the computer pods and the future page room.
When I set out on my adventure to Red Bridge, I wanted two things: a sorting room for the pages, and some kind of video game system for the library. Because of the small teen population for Red Bridge library, the latter probably won't happen. However, the first will definitely happen because it is penciled into the budget. I am so excited; I wish that the pages were too. The pages are afraid that a page room in the current location would be too small to sort things. Well, they're right. So, I talked about measurements and fire code, but the hardest part was convincing the regional manager that the page room needed to be bigger in order to accommodate all of the items that need sorting. I brought forth my case, laid down the evidence, and in the end, I think I may have made some headway. Work areas should be separate from browsing areas. Though it may be nice for patrons to pick through recently returned items, there needs to be a separation so that sorting can be done efficiently in order to return items to the shelves. Also, have a page area out in the open doesn't really look that great. I'm big on functionality, but I think I'm bigger on aesthetics. An enclosed work space would solve these issues. To that end, he said, "I'm usually not this agreeable but..." Then he trailed off. Fingers crossed for a new page room?
When I set out on my adventure to Red Bridge, I wanted two things: a sorting room for the pages, and some kind of video game system for the library. Because of the small teen population for Red Bridge library, the latter probably won't happen. However, the first will definitely happen because it is penciled into the budget. I am so excited; I wish that the pages were too. The pages are afraid that a page room in the current location would be too small to sort things. Well, they're right. So, I talked about measurements and fire code, but the hardest part was convincing the regional manager that the page room needed to be bigger in order to accommodate all of the items that need sorting. I brought forth my case, laid down the evidence, and in the end, I think I may have made some headway. Work areas should be separate from browsing areas. Though it may be nice for patrons to pick through recently returned items, there needs to be a separation so that sorting can be done efficiently in order to return items to the shelves. Also, have a page area out in the open doesn't really look that great. I'm big on functionality, but I think I'm bigger on aesthetics. An enclosed work space would solve these issues. To that end, he said, "I'm usually not this agreeable but..." Then he trailed off. Fingers crossed for a new page room?
Theatre 2011
What a long day. After being at work since 8, I drove straight to the theatre for the 6th performance of Scrooge! The Musical at Blue Springs City Theatre.
Even though I have somehow ended up in a Christmas show niche, this year's weight load was lessened by the fact that I am only a small part in the show. I say small with reservations because one of my fellow actors told me that a part is as big as you make it. Playing Topper, I feel like I've had a lot of room to enlarge my part. I am biased, but I think that the scene that I am in is the most natural. It's a party, so how can it not be?
Whilst sitting at a table in 54th Street last week, I had the pleasure of entering into a conversation about theatre, and most importantly, community theatre. Many community theatres cast whole families in shows, and often they return for multiple shows. For Scrooge, I got to meet some new theatre families and reacquaint myself with ones of my past. Everyone has a different story about the theatre, just as everyone has their own reasons for doing theatre. It is community theatre, yes, but through community theatre, I have seen friendships born, lovers meet, shy children become more outgoing, and introverts have fun by expressing themselves in their own ways. Everyone has their reasons, and I think mine is the family that I have found in theatre. I always seem to meet some great people, and I'm always sad when a show is over.
However, it will be nice to have a break, and maybe even a social life again for a little while. So, until Willy Wonka, adios!
 |
| image courtesy Blue Springs City Theatre |
However, it will be nice to have a break, and maybe even a social life again for a little while. So, until Willy Wonka, adios!
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Little Things
It's the last day of November. I have been at Red Bridge for barely over a week. Even though my time has been short, I have found new things to experiment with at the branch. They tend to be common sense things, but often times we are blinded by familiarity. Admittedly, I have had the same thing happen to me. It's not a bad thing; a new set of eyes may help discover things that have since faded into the fog.
I don't like doing unnecessary work in order to get the job done. I want the job done efficiently and with little chance of getting injured. It's not even the paperwork aspect of it; it just sucks getting hurt. So, if given the choice between (a) filling a box on the ground just to pick it up and unload it onto a cart and (b) placing items on a cart so that it can be rolled out and transferred to another cart, I will always choose (b). Not only is it easier, it's less hazardous to someone's health and well-being.
I decided that, instead of keeping 3 sheets of paper for branch programming, the branch should consolidate all programming onto one legal-sized sheet. I love legal-size paper. I can't explain it; it just happened. However, I cannot take the credit for coming up with the idea because another co-worker had the idea some time ago. I just executed it. I guess we'll see how it goes in December.
Maybe I'll try to work in an ask-off calendar next month too. Small but vital, an ask-off calendar can make it easier for people to take time off and make it easier for the scheduler to see how thin the crew will be throughout the month. I can thank my former manager for that idea.
Anyway, I guess I'll wait to see how many ripples my little splashes will make.
I don't like doing unnecessary work in order to get the job done. I want the job done efficiently and with little chance of getting injured. It's not even the paperwork aspect of it; it just sucks getting hurt. So, if given the choice between (a) filling a box on the ground just to pick it up and unload it onto a cart and (b) placing items on a cart so that it can be rolled out and transferred to another cart, I will always choose (b). Not only is it easier, it's less hazardous to someone's health and well-being.
I decided that, instead of keeping 3 sheets of paper for branch programming, the branch should consolidate all programming onto one legal-sized sheet. I love legal-size paper. I can't explain it; it just happened. However, I cannot take the credit for coming up with the idea because another co-worker had the idea some time ago. I just executed it. I guess we'll see how it goes in December.
Maybe I'll try to work in an ask-off calendar next month too. Small but vital, an ask-off calendar can make it easier for people to take time off and make it easier for the scheduler to see how thin the crew will be throughout the month. I can thank my former manager for that idea.
Anyway, I guess I'll wait to see how many ripples my little splashes will make.
Monday, November 28, 2011
That's Not Manager Work
I helped unload totes today at my new branch. This is commonplace in the library world of MCPL. When I was at Blue Springs South branch, we would always unload totes in the mornings. The totes held items returning to our branch for shelving and those items that have come in for patron requests. It's a pretty uneventful job, but it is absolutely necessary in order to process holds in a timely manner when there are many totes.
As I stationed myself in between some totes, I had an interesting encounter with... we'll call her Trudy.
Trudy: "What are you doing?"
Me: "I'm helping you unload totes."
Trudy: "Are you supposed to do that?"
Me: "I always have, so I figured I would help out. It needs to be done."
Trudy: "But the managers don't really help with totes in the morning."
Me: "Oh... Well, I am. I actually kinda like it."
Trudy: "Well, you certainly are a breath of fresh air."
I don't know about you, but I found this to be pretty amazing. I've never been one to follow rules (even unwritten ones) perfectly, and I was blown away that normal clerk stuff seemed off-limits to managers. I may be new to this manager stuff, but I don't think it's a good practice to ignore the "clerk work." I did that stuff for three years, which I know is a short timed compared with many library workers. I am happy that I am not required to do that anymore, but that doesn't mean that I won't still do it from time to time. I know that I have a lot more stuff that needs my attention now, but helping unload the totes, as mundane as it seems, is not only a great way to break the monotony of sitting at a desk, but also a great way to get to know the staff, even if I am technically above them. Just because I have a different title doesn't mean I'm better than them. I've been asking a lot of questions during my first week, and I'm sure that I will ask a lot more. Anyway, manager work is manager work, but manager work is also clerk work. By the way, clerk work may also be page work at times. Although, I could just be a weirdo librarian.
As I stationed myself in between some totes, I had an interesting encounter with... we'll call her Trudy.
Trudy: "What are you doing?"
Me: "I'm helping you unload totes."
Trudy: "Are you supposed to do that?"
Me: "I always have, so I figured I would help out. It needs to be done."
Trudy: "But the managers don't really help with totes in the morning."
Me: "Oh... Well, I am. I actually kinda like it."
Trudy: "Well, you certainly are a breath of fresh air."
I don't know about you, but I found this to be pretty amazing. I've never been one to follow rules (even unwritten ones) perfectly, and I was blown away that normal clerk stuff seemed off-limits to managers. I may be new to this manager stuff, but I don't think it's a good practice to ignore the "clerk work." I did that stuff for three years, which I know is a short timed compared with many library workers. I am happy that I am not required to do that anymore, but that doesn't mean that I won't still do it from time to time. I know that I have a lot more stuff that needs my attention now, but helping unload the totes, as mundane as it seems, is not only a great way to break the monotony of sitting at a desk, but also a great way to get to know the staff, even if I am technically above them. Just because I have a different title doesn't mean I'm better than them. I've been asking a lot of questions during my first week, and I'm sure that I will ask a lot more. Anyway, manager work is manager work, but manager work is also clerk work. By the way, clerk work may also be page work at times. Although, I could just be a weirdo librarian.
Monday, November 21, 2011
*NOT* the Same Old Branch
Hooray for first days! I felt like it was my first day of school again. I picked out all of my outfits for the entire work week. That may seem crazy, but it IS crazy. It's pretty interesting to see how two branches from the same library system do things so differently. There is of course a learning curve with names and duties, but I'll get there. It was just like my first day on the job at Blue Springs.
Actually, it wasn't. When I started at Blue Springs 3 years ago, I was still afraid to talk to people and I was afraid what people would think of me. Sure, I had my shirt and tie on just like today, but I was a different person. It's weird to realize how much I have changed in three years. I'm much happier, and I'm not afraid to speak up and talk to people. I am not afraid of what people might think of me because I think that I am a better person than I was three years ago.
Anyway, this is going to be quite the adventure. I have a desk with a hidden compartment; I'm still around people all day; and I see promise and fulfillment in my new position. With all of my well wishes on facebook, I have faith that I will do great. The nightmares about getting fired have stopped too.
Actually, it wasn't. When I started at Blue Springs 3 years ago, I was still afraid to talk to people and I was afraid what people would think of me. Sure, I had my shirt and tie on just like today, but I was a different person. It's weird to realize how much I have changed in three years. I'm much happier, and I'm not afraid to speak up and talk to people. I am not afraid of what people might think of me because I think that I am a better person than I was three years ago.
Anyway, this is going to be quite the adventure. I have a desk with a hidden compartment; I'm still around people all day; and I see promise and fulfillment in my new position. With all of my well wishes on facebook, I have faith that I will do great. The nightmares about getting fired have stopped too.
Sunday, November 20, 2011
A Moment
Friday was my last day at the library. I was there for 3 years and 3 months. It's amazing to see all of the changes that happened within that time period. What's more amazing is the amount of things that I never saw, or noticed. It's weird that it took me my entire tenure at the branch to notice something differently, but I guess that's how life works sometimes.
As I was wandering around the library with iPad in hand, I noticed our green chairs that have been scattered across the library since I started. They never have been anything special, but those are the chairs that we supply for patrons to sit in when they read books and magazines, or play games on their PSPs. They've always been there, and I have always seen them, but for some reason, I actually took note of them this time. Maybe it was because I was leaving that made me pause. I looked around; the library was pretty empty, as it is in the early afternoon. I took a seat.
In three years, I had never sat in these chairs. I had never sat on a couch. I had restricted myself to staff sittings, is that's even a proper term. After I sat down, the library had that new feeling again. It's like when you walk into your new house, or visit some place for the first time. I came into the library everyday, but it had a familiar look. After viewing it in a different place, I saw it with new eyes again.
I had that Dead Poet's Society moment, minus school desks. It puts things into perspective again. I turned out the lights Friday night, and I stood in the doorway to take in the novelty of the old library. In a way, it was an incredible way to transition. I looked upon my old library with a new perspective, and will now be going to a new library altogether.
I feel like watching Dead Poet's Society now.
As I was wandering around the library with iPad in hand, I noticed our green chairs that have been scattered across the library since I started. They never have been anything special, but those are the chairs that we supply for patrons to sit in when they read books and magazines, or play games on their PSPs. They've always been there, and I have always seen them, but for some reason, I actually took note of them this time. Maybe it was because I was leaving that made me pause. I looked around; the library was pretty empty, as it is in the early afternoon. I took a seat.
In three years, I had never sat in these chairs. I had never sat on a couch. I had restricted myself to staff sittings, is that's even a proper term. After I sat down, the library had that new feeling again. It's like when you walk into your new house, or visit some place for the first time. I came into the library everyday, but it had a familiar look. After viewing it in a different place, I saw it with new eyes again.
I had that Dead Poet's Society moment, minus school desks. It puts things into perspective again. I turned out the lights Friday night, and I stood in the doorway to take in the novelty of the old library. In a way, it was an incredible way to transition. I looked upon my old library with a new perspective, and will now be going to a new library altogether.
I feel like watching Dead Poet's Society now.
Friday, November 18, 2011
This is *NOT* Goodbye
I wrote a letter to the Blue Springs South Branch staff because I've always felt I write better than I speak, and I didn't want to get emotional and not be able to finish the letter if I read it out loud.
Dear Blue
Springs South:
I
accepted the Assistant Branch Manager position at Red Bridge with mixed
feelings. While I am exciting to be
moving forward in my career, I am sad to be moving on from this branch. For the past three years, I have gotten to know
you. I am proud to know all of you, not
only as co-workers, but also as friends.
A lot has changed in the branch in those three years. As those changes have happened, your spirit
and camaraderie has remained strong. I
can honestly say I have never worked with such an amazing group of people, and
I don’t know if I ever will again. You
have set such a high standard for me. To think that I could find a group to
surpass you is almost unimaginable.
You
have taught me so much about work and life, and I can never repay you for that
kindness. You have comforted me in times
of trouble, and you have praised me in times of great happiness. You have supported me in everything that I
have done, within the library and beyond. That support has been invaluable. I have learned so much, and I hope to learn more
as I move on. It is difficult leaving
such a close-knit group, but I know you are all just a call or quick drive
away.
You
are all fantastic, and I know that Blue Springs South is one of the best
branches (if not the best branch) in the system. I believe there is a reason that Blue South
was chosen to usher in the new customer service model. You can do it, and I see only bright things
for everyone at the branch.
Again,
you are the best group with which I have ever worked. I am honored to know all of you. I wish you luck in everything, and I hope to
visit often (or at least bring food or bug you on Facebook). It’s impossible for me to be in a bad mood around
you, and I hope that your spirit never changes.
Thank you for everything that you have given me. Remember, it’s never goodbye.
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Food Day
Food, Glorious FOOOOOOOOOOD!
Today, there was a food day at the library. If you can't tell, a food day is when everyone brings in food for all to eat. I love food days, and today's was special because it was in my honor. The ladies decided to bring in some delicious edibles since I am moving to another library branch (as Assistant Branch Manager). I've been at the Blue Springs South branch for over 3 years, and those 3 years have been amazing. I have never felt closer to a group of co-workers than I do now, and I consider many of them an extension of my family. If I wanted to count the number of people that are now an extension of my family, I don't think I could. I would easily lose count. Through thick and thin, the library has been there for me. I never asked for it; I never expected it; and co-workers don't have to support each other. This group of people did, has, and always will. That is why I am sad to leave. I know that I will have grand adventures as I progress in my career, but I hate leaving such a group of people, and I hate loss (I think we all do).
Anyway, the menu
Barbeque Chips
Pumpkin Pie Cake (I know, it's awesome)
Deviled Eggs (One of my favorites)
Daylight Donuts
Pretzels
Devil's Food Cookies
Pineapple Chunks
Brownies
Mini-GBs (Gummy Bears for those of you not hip to their street name)
Jelly Shortbread Cookies
White Chocolate Chip Cookies WITHOUT Macadamia Nuts
2 types of Triscuits & Wheat Thins
2 Veggie Trays
Tortilla Chips with Rotel Dip
Homemade Potato Salad with Turkey Bacon
Not pictured
Bacon wrapped Lil Smokies
Green Bean Casserole (my absolute favorite holiday dish ever)
KFC
Fudge with Pecans
Pumpkin Pie (just for me!)
White chocolate chip cookies are the best thing ever. I don't like the macadamia nuts in them; it seems to ruin the genuine taste of the white chocolate.
A second veggie tray was brought in, and they were afraid that it was too much on the vegetable front. I informed them that it was fine. I LOVE vegetables and always have since grade school when I... oh wait, back to THIS story.
I was asked, "Do you like Original?" When that spurred a perplexed look, I was then asked, "Do you like chicken?" Of course I like chicken, but I guess my brain wasn't functioning. She wanted to get me KFC; I just didn't put it together.
 |
| My wall of congratulations and embarrassment. |
"Yeah, how can you remember them all?"
Remember when:
On your first day of work, you took a tote to bring in the pick list?
(Obviously it made more sense than a basket)
Your first day of work at BS was on
You were in the Christmas play and several of us came to watch you perform?
You were Santa at our branch?
(and Colbern Road)
You were a Champion during our first Customer Service Day and you tried to get everyone's attention on the bus?
You always tried out the puppets and stories for storytime?
(I also read Pete the Cat to the staff on Wednesday Morning)
You won all those trivia contests?
Thanks, guys!
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Newness
November 18th is my last day at my current library branch. As of November 21st, I will be the Assistant Branch Manager at the Red Bridge Branch of Mid-Continent Public Library. I am excited for this awesome opportunity, but I am also sad because I have had the honor of working with some of the best people ever. I have gotten to know them as co-workers and friends.
This is new territory for me, and I think that it will be a great adventure. I'll keep you posted.
Sunday, November 6, 2011
The Simple Moon
I took this photo while on a cruise in the Bahamas. It is simply the moon resting in the sky over the endless ocean. At that moment, I felt really small but I also felt special to be able to see something so simple yet so beautiful. It's amazing how such simple things can mean so much.
In antiquity, different peoples worshiped the sun, the moon, the trees, storms, and many other things. They were celestial and earthly phenomena that were easily explained my mythology and religion. People were in awe of such things thousands of years ago, and, though I haven't really been before, I am now in awe of the moon for a very different reason.
About a month ago, two of my friends came back from Afghanistan. They told me stories of things they had seen and experienced. They told me about their down time (what little they had). They even told me about their culinary exploits half way around the world. Everything that they said just seemed surreal to me. I've never experienced anything like they have, and personally hope that I don't. However, I am proud of them for doing what they do and helping those overseas. I don't care how people may feel about war and the US presence in other countries. I know how I feel, and I also know that the people that my friends described were overwhelmingly thankful for what they were doing.
As they told me numerous stories, many of them I will probably forget. Some I will remember, but there is one thing that they both said that was unequivocally humbling for me. When they would go outside on a clear night, they could look up at the sky and, even though there was imminent danger just down the road, they could see the moon. When they saw the moon, they realized that it was the same moon that everyone else was seeing back home.
Some stories are sad; some stories are happy. No matter how it touches you; if a story touches you, I think you will remember. Now, every time that I look up at the moon, I know that it is the same moon that everyone else sees. The soldiers on foreign soil, my friends in St. Louis, my family all across the US are all looking to the same moon, and that touches me and gives me peace. So, if you have the opportunity, take a glance at the moon tonight and reflect. It may make you think that those peoples in antiquity were on to something.
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Contrary to Popular Belief
October 24, 2011
Contrary to popular belief, George Washington was NOT the first President of the United States.
July 4, 1776 is Independence Day in the United States, so it is weird that our first President did not take office until April 30, 1789 (thirteen years later). John Hanson, a representative from Maryland, was elected as "president of the United States in Congress Assembled." That’s quite a long name, and seven other men, including John Hancock, held this title before George Washington was elected President under the newly ratified Constitution in 1788.
It doesn’t seem right, but the truth is that there are a lot of false facts out there that many people tend to believe. Under close examination and considerable time in libraries, Joey Green explains some of these false facts, over 250 of them, in his book, Contrary to Popular Belief.
Other facts discussed include: Dracula, the Golden Gate Bridge, Woodstock, the speed of sound, and the Pennsylvania Dutch. Some of the facts make a lot of sense; others are pretty weird. Some of them are just unbelievable. If you’re looking for a quirky trivia resource or some time to kill, this book is for you. This book is not only proof that you can’t believe everything you hear, but also proof that libraries are amazing resources for fact-checking.
Contrary to popular belief, George Washington was NOT the first President of the United States.
July 4, 1776 is Independence Day in the United States, so it is weird that our first President did not take office until April 30, 1789 (thirteen years later). John Hanson, a representative from Maryland, was elected as "president of the United States in Congress Assembled." That’s quite a long name, and seven other men, including John Hancock, held this title before George Washington was elected President under the newly ratified Constitution in 1788.
It doesn’t seem right, but the truth is that there are a lot of false facts out there that many people tend to believe. Under close examination and considerable time in libraries, Joey Green explains some of these false facts, over 250 of them, in his book, Contrary to Popular Belief.
Other facts discussed include: Dracula, the Golden Gate Bridge, Woodstock, the speed of sound, and the Pennsylvania Dutch. Some of the facts make a lot of sense; others are pretty weird. Some of them are just unbelievable. If you’re looking for a quirky trivia resource or some time to kill, this book is for you. This book is not only proof that you can’t believe everything you hear, but also proof that libraries are amazing resources for fact-checking.
Thursday, September 29, 2011
The Man Who Walked Between the Towers
September 08, 2011
Meet Philippe Petit, a 24-year-old street performer. In those 24 years, he had walked across tightropes in Paris and Australia, and had also practiced and performed juggling, fencing and bullfighting. Though he did all of those things, none would be as fun or solidify his place in history more than the day in 1974 that he walked between the twin towers of the World Trade Center in New York.
On August 7, 1974, Petit fastened a tightrope between the then-unfinished towers and began his journey. From 110 stories up, Petit taunted the bustling city below, walking and dancing on the 200-foot long wire. Mordicai Gerstein retells the events of that day in his Caldecott Medal-winning book, The Man Who Walked Between the Towers. The book is good, but I am partial to the version on BookFlix (under People and Places), which narrates the story and animates the pages.
Petit was also the focus of the 2008 Academy Award-winning documentary entitled Man on Wire. Many theatres across the country are having special screenings of this documentary to pay homage to the towers that once stood.
Ten years ago, our world was forever changed by the attack on the World Trade Center. As we remember the lives lost during and after the disaster, and those lost fighting overseas, I thought it would be a nice homage to mention Philippe Petit and his amazing (and highly illegal) feat.
Although, if you were to ask Philippe Petit today, he would say, "I don't see time begin and end. In my head, the twin towers are still alive."
Surely they are still alive in our minds as well.
Meet Philippe Petit, a 24-year-old street performer. In those 24 years, he had walked across tightropes in Paris and Australia, and had also practiced and performed juggling, fencing and bullfighting. Though he did all of those things, none would be as fun or solidify his place in history more than the day in 1974 that he walked between the twin towers of the World Trade Center in New York.
On August 7, 1974, Petit fastened a tightrope between the then-unfinished towers and began his journey. From 110 stories up, Petit taunted the bustling city below, walking and dancing on the 200-foot long wire. Mordicai Gerstein retells the events of that day in his Caldecott Medal-winning book, The Man Who Walked Between the Towers. The book is good, but I am partial to the version on BookFlix (under People and Places), which narrates the story and animates the pages.
Petit was also the focus of the 2008 Academy Award-winning documentary entitled Man on Wire. Many theatres across the country are having special screenings of this documentary to pay homage to the towers that once stood.
Ten years ago, our world was forever changed by the attack on the World Trade Center. As we remember the lives lost during and after the disaster, and those lost fighting overseas, I thought it would be a nice homage to mention Philippe Petit and his amazing (and highly illegal) feat.
Although, if you were to ask Philippe Petit today, he would say, "I don't see time begin and end. In my head, the twin towers are still alive."
Surely they are still alive in our minds as well.
Friday, September 23, 2011
Thesis + Antithesis = Synthesis
I was taught that in my many history classes. First, a thesis is formed. Then, an antithesis is brought about, usually in direct opposition to the thesis. After careful consideration, reflection and criticism, a synthesis can be formed from the opposing viewpoints. Ultimately, that synthesis becomes a new thesis, and the whole process begins again (just like Michael Finnegan).
In life, we are always faced with these viewpoints. In fact, our whole life is made up of choices based on what we experience. These choices are often influenced by those closest to us. In taking advice from loved ones, we can only hope to formulate our own thesis about life (or at least individual moments). I have always tried to take my mom's advice about anything. My mom was an incredible woman, and I can only hope to be half the person that she was. She has influenced my life so much, and she still does, though she is gone. I think that throughout her life she was happy. She always saw the silver lining no matter how dark the clouds were, and even though she experienced things that I would never want anyone to suffer through, she came out the other alright. She always told me to make sure that I am happy, and other friends have told me that as well. I guess it takes a ton of bricks to knock some sense into me, but I finally started doing things that made me happy.
My job makes me happy, that's for sure. I can't put into words how I feel about libraries. I never thought that I would want to do something like what I do now, but I just feel like I have found a lifelong career. If my career makes me happy, and I need to do what makes me happy, I should be... happy, right? Logically, it makes perfect sense to be happy, but at the same time my happiness has split. Because of this ideological split, I am faced with uneasiness and anxiety. A very good friend of mine told me about her grandmother's advice about happiness/careers. She had said that if you focus on your career, everything else will fall into place. It's a good philosophy. So is my mom's. I can't discredit either because both are sound. So, now I am faced with torturous reflection, consideration and criticism of two theses. At some point (soon, I hope), I want to have had considered these philosophies and formulate my own synthesis of my situation. Hindsight is always 20/20, and I wish that forethought was too. It's just really hard to make such decisions when a career is in one place, and happiness is in another.
Is it an itch? Is it homesickness? Is it an adventurous spirit? I don't know exactly, but I want to figure it out. Until then, I will *NOT* hang myself, but I may have a pit in my stomach and a lump in my throat.
In life, we are always faced with these viewpoints. In fact, our whole life is made up of choices based on what we experience. These choices are often influenced by those closest to us. In taking advice from loved ones, we can only hope to formulate our own thesis about life (or at least individual moments). I have always tried to take my mom's advice about anything. My mom was an incredible woman, and I can only hope to be half the person that she was. She has influenced my life so much, and she still does, though she is gone. I think that throughout her life she was happy. She always saw the silver lining no matter how dark the clouds were, and even though she experienced things that I would never want anyone to suffer through, she came out the other alright. She always told me to make sure that I am happy, and other friends have told me that as well. I guess it takes a ton of bricks to knock some sense into me, but I finally started doing things that made me happy.
My job makes me happy, that's for sure. I can't put into words how I feel about libraries. I never thought that I would want to do something like what I do now, but I just feel like I have found a lifelong career. If my career makes me happy, and I need to do what makes me happy, I should be... happy, right? Logically, it makes perfect sense to be happy, but at the same time my happiness has split. Because of this ideological split, I am faced with uneasiness and anxiety. A very good friend of mine told me about her grandmother's advice about happiness/careers. She had said that if you focus on your career, everything else will fall into place. It's a good philosophy. So is my mom's. I can't discredit either because both are sound. So, now I am faced with torturous reflection, consideration and criticism of two theses. At some point (soon, I hope), I want to have had considered these philosophies and formulate my own synthesis of my situation. Hindsight is always 20/20, and I wish that forethought was too. It's just really hard to make such decisions when a career is in one place, and happiness is in another.
Is it an itch? Is it homesickness? Is it an adventurous spirit? I don't know exactly, but I want to figure it out. Until then, I will *NOT* hang myself, but I may have a pit in my stomach and a lump in my throat.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Taps
TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP
That's the sound I heard when my dad was impatiently waiting for something. Usually, it happened during a phone call or the off-chance that we went out to eat at Burger King. I know Burger King isn't eating out, but that's the place we would go. I remember when I was big enough to eat a Whopper all by myself; it was still 99¢, too.
My dad grew up on a farm and there were different types of equipment there. There were always kids running around and playing with the toys. Well, apparently, my dad liked to play with said toys whether they were on or off. I remember him yelling at me when I tried to lift the grass guard on the riding lawnmower while it was running.
Why would I do that? Nothing's going to happen to me! Of course, I tested his theory and lifted the guard. SNIP! There went the tip of my finger. I still miss it to this day. That's why my left pointer finger is just a little bit shorter than the right.
Don't worry. That didn't happen.
My dad is probably part of the reason for that warning label. He did just that, only it was with much larger machinery. He really did lose the tip of his pointer finger. The blade cut off the tip almost down to the knuckle. However, it did not cut out the entire nail bed, so his nail was still able to grow. Instead of having a full nail though, it was sort of a rounded nail tip right in the middle of his finger. So, while most people roll their fingers to convey a sense of urgency, my dad would just curve his finger and
TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP
That's the sound I heard when my dad was impatiently waiting for something. Usually, it happened during a phone call or the off-chance that we went out to eat at Burger King. I know Burger King isn't eating out, but that's the place we would go. I remember when I was big enough to eat a Whopper all by myself; it was still 99¢, too.
My dad grew up on a farm and there were different types of equipment there. There were always kids running around and playing with the toys. Well, apparently, my dad liked to play with said toys whether they were on or off. I remember him yelling at me when I tried to lift the grass guard on the riding lawnmower while it was running.
He said that I should pay attention to the warning:
Why would I do that? Nothing's going to happen to me! Of course, I tested his theory and lifted the guard. SNIP! There went the tip of my finger. I still miss it to this day. That's why my left pointer finger is just a little bit shorter than the right.
Don't worry. That didn't happen.
My dad is probably part of the reason for that warning label. He did just that, only it was with much larger machinery. He really did lose the tip of his pointer finger. The blade cut off the tip almost down to the knuckle. However, it did not cut out the entire nail bed, so his nail was still able to grow. Instead of having a full nail though, it was sort of a rounded nail tip right in the middle of his finger. So, while most people roll their fingers to convey a sense of urgency, my dad would just curve his finger and
TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP
Monday, September 12, 2011
I am *NOT* a crook
Where am I? Someone is after me; I can feel it. I'm not sure who it is, but they're out there looking for me. I feel like I need to run, but where? I don't know what I'm running from and I have no idea where they will be. So I run. I can't feel how long I've run, but I am at an estate. It looks like a castle. Again, I'm unsure of where I am or why I'm here. I sense a need to get to the balcony. It's more like a patio, but it is completely stone. I sneak up to it and clamber up the wall. As I get over the edge, two uniformed officers spot me. One is a middle-aged and portly man while his apparent partner is a very young, perhaps just out of the academy, female. Both are wearing flack jackets and pursue me through the green expanse of the lawn. All of a sudden, I am no longer being chased. We are walking and talking as old friends. As we near the far side of the estate, the police back away and go back toward the house.
I'm home again. It feels good to be back in Silex. I used to live here, but it feels natural, good to be here again. Mom and Dad are gone of course, but I still feel like I am home.
From inside, I peer out the window. They're here! Someone must have told the cops that I was here! The guy in charge is walking around in his flack jacket. He looks oddly like Mr. Sheffield from The Nanny. More police cars pull up just over the hill by my driveway. I can't count all of them, but there seems to be at least 20. For some reason, they are after me, and it's pretty serious. Mr. Sheffield gets a call on the walkie. There's movement beyond the trees next to the drive. An urge comes over me: I have to escape. I grab my bike and ride through the three-acre lot. I cross over the creek and make my way toward the highway. As I look back, it appears as if I have gotten away. No cops follow me or even know I'm gone. I keep riding, just in case.
I make a right onto the old highway and pass the auto parts shop. Before I get to the curve, I redirect North taking an old trail away from the roads. Where a corn field once was, now there's this path. A path that I've been on before. I know where I'm going now.
I look to the left and there's a ball field that I've visited often. To the right is a brown field. I make a left by the ball field and notice some establishment to my right now. I can't recognize it, but again, I think I've been there before too. The hedges may have given it away. As I travel down another dirt trail, I find myself in a very familiar village. My brain keeps telling me Knob Creek, and although that is also the name of a popular Bourbon, I can't refute the village's name.
There's a rather large shed coming up. With vague familiarity, I approach. Ah, my old friend is there. He is my friend, right? I can't remember his name or where I know him from, but he seems like a friend. We go inside the shed and he shows me his new contraptions for causing people pain. Actually, these devices look more like a punishment, a self-inflicted punishment. He definitely is my friend, but should I trust him in this shed alone? He then informs me that the shed is also mine. We share the title. Why would I have a place like this? There are so many gruesome tools here. I can't imagine a reason to own this property and allow someone, even myself, to convert it into this. As we talk, he explains the evils of humanity and how disgusting we have become. Humanity must be punished, but only through these tools, apparently. What was that? Movement. Outside. Someone is here. I didn't think anyone knew about this shed! That's the whole point behind putting it here. It's time to go again. My friend sends me on my way, giving himself up to the authorities most likely.
As I ride on the main drag, I notice my surroundings. The old antiques shop is still there on the right. The only thing electric about that place is the neon sign that the owner never turns off. They're open 24/7 if you trust the sign. There's the little bistro that I've seemingly gone to. I near the now occupied intersection so that I can ride through to where I need to be.
From around the corner appears the chief of police and his wife. Oh no! How did this happen? How did he find me? Even without his uniform, he had to do his duty.
"Why don't you come with me."
I am seated in an old wooden chair in his office. His secretary, who looks to be about 180 years old, is seated behind a desk. As the chief and I are talking, she attempts to take notes but repeatedly falls asleep. He asks her to leave and takes her place. This is an interrogation.
The exchange goes on for quite sometime, but his last questions pierce my brain.
"It says here in your profile that you would dress up these ladies and have tea parties with them."
"What? No! Why would I do that?" As I respond, it all rushes back to me. I see images of dead women, now forgotten lives. Like photographs they flood my mind's eye. I remember every detail. I remember everything that I did to them. No wonder they are after me. I killed those people. Women, men, all of them. It's all my fault. They've been hunting a serial killer!
"It also says here that you killed these people because you were longing for a tangible relationship."
For some reason, I am not alarmed though. I am collected, but furious. This is preposterous! "No! That doesn't even make sense! Why would I kill them if I wanted a relationship with them?"
"That's what is says here in our profile of you. Are you telling me that our profile of you is wrong?"
"It has to be! I would never have a tea party with my victims after they're dead AND I wouldn't kill them to gain a relationship!"
I watch him carefully. He scrawls a single word on my criminal psychological profile: "LYES"
I'm home again. It feels good to be back in Silex. I used to live here, but it feels natural, good to be here again. Mom and Dad are gone of course, but I still feel like I am home.
From inside, I peer out the window. They're here! Someone must have told the cops that I was here! The guy in charge is walking around in his flack jacket. He looks oddly like Mr. Sheffield from The Nanny. More police cars pull up just over the hill by my driveway. I can't count all of them, but there seems to be at least 20. For some reason, they are after me, and it's pretty serious. Mr. Sheffield gets a call on the walkie. There's movement beyond the trees next to the drive. An urge comes over me: I have to escape. I grab my bike and ride through the three-acre lot. I cross over the creek and make my way toward the highway. As I look back, it appears as if I have gotten away. No cops follow me or even know I'm gone. I keep riding, just in case.
I make a right onto the old highway and pass the auto parts shop. Before I get to the curve, I redirect North taking an old trail away from the roads. Where a corn field once was, now there's this path. A path that I've been on before. I know where I'm going now.
I look to the left and there's a ball field that I've visited often. To the right is a brown field. I make a left by the ball field and notice some establishment to my right now. I can't recognize it, but again, I think I've been there before too. The hedges may have given it away. As I travel down another dirt trail, I find myself in a very familiar village. My brain keeps telling me Knob Creek, and although that is also the name of a popular Bourbon, I can't refute the village's name.
There's a rather large shed coming up. With vague familiarity, I approach. Ah, my old friend is there. He is my friend, right? I can't remember his name or where I know him from, but he seems like a friend. We go inside the shed and he shows me his new contraptions for causing people pain. Actually, these devices look more like a punishment, a self-inflicted punishment. He definitely is my friend, but should I trust him in this shed alone? He then informs me that the shed is also mine. We share the title. Why would I have a place like this? There are so many gruesome tools here. I can't imagine a reason to own this property and allow someone, even myself, to convert it into this. As we talk, he explains the evils of humanity and how disgusting we have become. Humanity must be punished, but only through these tools, apparently. What was that? Movement. Outside. Someone is here. I didn't think anyone knew about this shed! That's the whole point behind putting it here. It's time to go again. My friend sends me on my way, giving himself up to the authorities most likely.
As I ride on the main drag, I notice my surroundings. The old antiques shop is still there on the right. The only thing electric about that place is the neon sign that the owner never turns off. They're open 24/7 if you trust the sign. There's the little bistro that I've seemingly gone to. I near the now occupied intersection so that I can ride through to where I need to be.
From around the corner appears the chief of police and his wife. Oh no! How did this happen? How did he find me? Even without his uniform, he had to do his duty.
"Why don't you come with me."
I am seated in an old wooden chair in his office. His secretary, who looks to be about 180 years old, is seated behind a desk. As the chief and I are talking, she attempts to take notes but repeatedly falls asleep. He asks her to leave and takes her place. This is an interrogation.
The exchange goes on for quite sometime, but his last questions pierce my brain.
"It says here in your profile that you would dress up these ladies and have tea parties with them."
"What? No! Why would I do that?" As I respond, it all rushes back to me. I see images of dead women, now forgotten lives. Like photographs they flood my mind's eye. I remember every detail. I remember everything that I did to them. No wonder they are after me. I killed those people. Women, men, all of them. It's all my fault. They've been hunting a serial killer!
"It also says here that you killed these people because you were longing for a tangible relationship."
For some reason, I am not alarmed though. I am collected, but furious. This is preposterous! "No! That doesn't even make sense! Why would I kill them if I wanted a relationship with them?"
"That's what is says here in our profile of you. Are you telling me that our profile of you is wrong?"
"It has to be! I would never have a tea party with my victims after they're dead AND I wouldn't kill them to gain a relationship!"
I watch him carefully. He scrawls a single word on my criminal psychological profile: "LYES"
Saturday, September 10, 2011
Mom and Her Hair
This is the first expressive paper that I wrote for my college English class. My teacher was awesome, and the class consisted of only 6 of us. They had to keep the class because we had the minimum number of students. It's one of the most unique classes that I've ever taken. Forgive possible wording issues and poorly phrased ideas, but it was my first real paper and I have left it in its original state. I will always remember September 11th because it's my mom's birthday.
...
Her hair never wanted to stay down, and the same was true for her. Mom had dark brown hair. Her hair was almost black, being from Italian descent. I cannot remember a day when her hair was laid flat on her head. It was apparent that nothing would keep her hair down or even in a style.
Her spirit was just as free. It was like a wild mustang on an open field. Her confirmation name was Philippe which literally means “lover of horses.” She was around horses until after I was born. In fact, my dad proposed to her on horseback in the middle of the woods. It was pouring rain at midnight as well. She indeed loved horses, but in a way, she could relate to them as well. She was very active outside and she never liked being inside. On those occasions when she stayed inside, you could watch her brown eyes as they darted to every window in the house, longing to be outside in the sun. Her dark tan further implied how much she enjoyed the outdoors. Sometimes, Mom and I would just sit on the front porch and watch our dogs play in the grass. The dogs would play and get so tired while we just sat and laughed. Just sitting out there seemed like such a great thing to be had.
Mom was one of those people who could not be kept down. Her attitude was as wild as her hair. Anything in her life could not have prepared her for 1996. In the spring of that year, she was diagnosed with cancer. When the family heard, we all thought that it was a big deal, and indeed it was; but Mom did not see it as a disability. In fact, in a way it might have been a blessing in disguise. No matter how much the medicine ravished her body, she would keep active in her weakness. Her hair fell out because of those drugs, but eventually grew back in. She may not have been able to enjoy the sun all that much, but she never let that get to her. I could see her stubbornness as clear as day.
Mom was her own person, and she was not going to listen to what people said if it was going to interfere with her enjoying life. Mom was stubborn, but never in a bad way. She defied nearly everything that the doctors had told her. She did try to stop smoking, but other than that she was still enjoying life. The doctors had suggested that she change her diet. They had also said that it was a good idea to cut down on doing so many things that she had always done. Her whole life, Mom had worked for other people and it was hard for her to adjust to not working so much. She was set in her ways just as her hair would never lie down.
In her service of others, she was a waitress and even a nurse in Vietnam. She would always tell me about her time spent in Vietnam. Instead of hiding the memories like most people, Mom embraced them. Her time in Saigon was spent helping people. She would help people without prejudice. No matter how bad the situation may have been, she always tried her best.
Mom was in one situation that had actually sent her home. She helped a Vietnamese child one day without knowing the consequences. The child had a bomb wrapped up in a towel, along with the arm that he was missing. Mom sent him up to the top floor for treatment. Without warning, the bomb went off. The building collapsed and she, being the highest officer there, had to get all the others out. As she ran out the doorway, the steel door collapsed on her legs. She was sent home and was left with steel in her leg muscle. She later recovered and kept on with her life. From hearing all of her stories, I realized how determined she was. Just like her hair fell out and grew back, she did the same. Her energy may have fallen, but it soon came back. Her determination never left though.
When that diagnosis came, I thought that we would never be able to do the things that we used to do. We would go into Troy every Saturday just to window shop. We would spend the whole day on Main Street just enjoying the incredible day. Usually, we would go to any restaurant at all and stop by the park to eat. It was not much, but for Mom and me it was a great thing to do. Riding in the car on those Saturdays was always fun too. I, being an inquisitive child, would always ask the curious questions any normal kid would ask. However, when it came to curiosity, we would usually get on the topic of how she grew up or some of the serious things in life. She liked to talk about her father, whom I never met. He was an immigrant from Sicily who always tried to help anyone, even though he was a stranger to most and just an immigrant to others. I guess that is how Mom’s attitude about everything came about. During those car rides, I learned a lot about Mom. Those things, I thought were gone because of the cancer.
As it turned out, I was completely wrong. The cancer passed without Mom taking any further treatments. Everything became nearly as normal as it was before. For four years everything seemed to be going alright. In 2000, cancer invaded her body once again. The diagnosis was not as hard on everyone this time because of what had happened earlier. Friends came over on Christmas to fix dinner for her. Once again, her stubborn attitude became prevalent. She longed to be in the kitchen fixing that supper. However, those friends kept her from working too much and that dinner turned out fine.
Mom always made the best out of life, no matter what the situation. So many people were touched by her presence and so many people were affected by her loss. Mom lost her fight with cancer early in 2002. Her hair had grown gray streaks in it. It showed how much she had been through. The dark brown still lingered as to say, “I made it through all this.”
She is now next to my dad in St. Alphonsus cemetery. She gave so much to that parish that we thought it would be fit to let her rest there. Even now, I see my Mom in me a lot. I know that she influenced me a lot in the things that I do and the things I say. Even how I act towards people has been influenced by her. My hair still sticks up in places, and I can’t calm it down.
...
Her hair never wanted to stay down, and the same was true for her. Mom had dark brown hair. Her hair was almost black, being from Italian descent. I cannot remember a day when her hair was laid flat on her head. It was apparent that nothing would keep her hair down or even in a style.
Her spirit was just as free. It was like a wild mustang on an open field. Her confirmation name was Philippe which literally means “lover of horses.” She was around horses until after I was born. In fact, my dad proposed to her on horseback in the middle of the woods. It was pouring rain at midnight as well. She indeed loved horses, but in a way, she could relate to them as well. She was very active outside and she never liked being inside. On those occasions when she stayed inside, you could watch her brown eyes as they darted to every window in the house, longing to be outside in the sun. Her dark tan further implied how much she enjoyed the outdoors. Sometimes, Mom and I would just sit on the front porch and watch our dogs play in the grass. The dogs would play and get so tired while we just sat and laughed. Just sitting out there seemed like such a great thing to be had.
Mom was one of those people who could not be kept down. Her attitude was as wild as her hair. Anything in her life could not have prepared her for 1996. In the spring of that year, she was diagnosed with cancer. When the family heard, we all thought that it was a big deal, and indeed it was; but Mom did not see it as a disability. In fact, in a way it might have been a blessing in disguise. No matter how much the medicine ravished her body, she would keep active in her weakness. Her hair fell out because of those drugs, but eventually grew back in. She may not have been able to enjoy the sun all that much, but she never let that get to her. I could see her stubbornness as clear as day.
Mom was her own person, and she was not going to listen to what people said if it was going to interfere with her enjoying life. Mom was stubborn, but never in a bad way. She defied nearly everything that the doctors had told her. She did try to stop smoking, but other than that she was still enjoying life. The doctors had suggested that she change her diet. They had also said that it was a good idea to cut down on doing so many things that she had always done. Her whole life, Mom had worked for other people and it was hard for her to adjust to not working so much. She was set in her ways just as her hair would never lie down.
In her service of others, she was a waitress and even a nurse in Vietnam. She would always tell me about her time spent in Vietnam. Instead of hiding the memories like most people, Mom embraced them. Her time in Saigon was spent helping people. She would help people without prejudice. No matter how bad the situation may have been, she always tried her best.
Mom was in one situation that had actually sent her home. She helped a Vietnamese child one day without knowing the consequences. The child had a bomb wrapped up in a towel, along with the arm that he was missing. Mom sent him up to the top floor for treatment. Without warning, the bomb went off. The building collapsed and she, being the highest officer there, had to get all the others out. As she ran out the doorway, the steel door collapsed on her legs. She was sent home and was left with steel in her leg muscle. She later recovered and kept on with her life. From hearing all of her stories, I realized how determined she was. Just like her hair fell out and grew back, she did the same. Her energy may have fallen, but it soon came back. Her determination never left though.
When that diagnosis came, I thought that we would never be able to do the things that we used to do. We would go into Troy every Saturday just to window shop. We would spend the whole day on Main Street just enjoying the incredible day. Usually, we would go to any restaurant at all and stop by the park to eat. It was not much, but for Mom and me it was a great thing to do. Riding in the car on those Saturdays was always fun too. I, being an inquisitive child, would always ask the curious questions any normal kid would ask. However, when it came to curiosity, we would usually get on the topic of how she grew up or some of the serious things in life. She liked to talk about her father, whom I never met. He was an immigrant from Sicily who always tried to help anyone, even though he was a stranger to most and just an immigrant to others. I guess that is how Mom’s attitude about everything came about. During those car rides, I learned a lot about Mom. Those things, I thought were gone because of the cancer.
As it turned out, I was completely wrong. The cancer passed without Mom taking any further treatments. Everything became nearly as normal as it was before. For four years everything seemed to be going alright. In 2000, cancer invaded her body once again. The diagnosis was not as hard on everyone this time because of what had happened earlier. Friends came over on Christmas to fix dinner for her. Once again, her stubborn attitude became prevalent. She longed to be in the kitchen fixing that supper. However, those friends kept her from working too much and that dinner turned out fine.
Mom always made the best out of life, no matter what the situation. So many people were touched by her presence and so many people were affected by her loss. Mom lost her fight with cancer early in 2002. Her hair had grown gray streaks in it. It showed how much she had been through. The dark brown still lingered as to say, “I made it through all this.”
She is now next to my dad in St. Alphonsus cemetery. She gave so much to that parish that we thought it would be fit to let her rest there. Even now, I see my Mom in me a lot. I know that she influenced me a lot in the things that I do and the things I say. Even how I act towards people has been influenced by her. My hair still sticks up in places, and I can’t calm it down.
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Pastime/Passed Time
Swing and a miss! Strike three on a curveball that dropped way out of the strike zone!
He looks to have squandered the last chance for his team there. That's the third out. Dan's team still trails as we go into the ninth inning.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
The Greatest Sport
Now batting, the third baseman, number 7, Dan.
He's had a pretty decent season at the plate this year. He hasn't gotten many free passes even though he's seen a lot of playing time.
That they do, Rick. He manages to foul off a lot of pitches and stay alive, though. He likes to make those pitchers work.
It looks like the ole brush back move. That pitcher wants to push him off the plate and make him uncomfortable in his own stance. Number 7 is used to that, though. He routinely makes pitchers throw a lot of pitches to him, and they fight back. He can usually get on base by finding his pitch.
Rick, it's funny you should say that. That's way out of character for this young player. According to his scouting report, he has seen more curveballs per at-bat than any other player in history! It surprises me that he wouldn't even swing at that. The curveball seems to be his pitch, even if not by choice.
Wow, he crushed that, Rick. That was a line drive shot that just snuck foul at the last second. If he could have that one back, I think he'd slow it down a bit.
I think you're right, Rick.
Another curveball. These pitchers must have his number. If they keep throwing curveballs, you think he'll connect with one?
It looks like pitch can't decide on what to throw. Out comes the catcher to the mound. It looks like this is a tough decision. If I were pitching, Rick, I think I'd go after him. I think with no one on and two outs, you have to.
I tend to agree with you, Al. He's got to after Dan here. The ump breaks up the conference and the pitcher readies himself. Here's the 2-2 pitch. Oh no, it looks like another curveball. Dan sits back, and he swings!
He's had a pretty decent season at the plate this year. He hasn't gotten many free passes even though he's seen a lot of playing time.
You know, you're right, Al. He's one of the toughest batters to walk. It just seems like every pitcher wants to challenge him at every at-bat.
That they do, Rick. He manages to foul off a lot of pitches and stay alive, though. He likes to make those pitchers work.
Here's the first pitch and it's high and inside.
It looks like the ole brush back move. That pitcher wants to push him off the plate and make him uncomfortable in his own stance. Number 7 is used to that, though. He routinely makes pitchers throw a lot of pitches to him, and they fight back. He can usually get on base by finding his pitch.
The pitcher looks to see the sign from the catcher. He didn't like that sign... or that one. He nods and sets himself...
*STRIKE*
Looks like he went with the curveball down in the zone. Dan held up on that one. I guess he wasn't feeling that pitch.
Rick, it's funny you should say that. That's way out of character for this young player. According to his scouting report, he has seen more curveballs per at-bat than any other player in history! It surprises me that he wouldn't even swing at that. The curveball seems to be his pitch, even if not by choice.
The batter calls time and steps out of the box. He readjusts and gets back in. The count's 1 and 1. No men on with two outs. They've been trailing the whole game, and a hit here might liven up the bench enough to start a rally here in the eighth inning. The pitcher sees his sign, and here's the pitch...
SWING AND A LONG ONE DOWN THE LEFT FIELD LINE. COULD IT? BACK! BACK! AND JUUUUUUST FOUL. I guess that's just a long strike, Al.
Wow, he crushed that, Rick. That was a line drive shot that just snuck foul at the last second. If he could have that one back, I think he'd slow it down a bit.
Yeah, can't go too fast into that. I think that was another curveball too.
I think you're right, Rick.
The pitcher sets and fires. A fastball at the numbers for a ball. That leaves the count at 2 and 2. The crowd starts to make some noise, getting behind their man. The pitcher, working quickly, tosses another one in there and Dan fouls it off to the first base dugout.
Another curveball. These pitchers must have his number. If they keep throwing curveballs, you think he'll connect with one?
I hope so, Al. This team needs him to get on base. He's been on a hot streak lately, but who knows when Dan will run out of gas. This is potentially his last at-bat in this game unless he gets on here.
It looks like pitch can't decide on what to throw. Out comes the catcher to the mound. It looks like this is a tough decision. If I were pitching, Rick, I think I'd go after him. I think with no one on and two outs, you have to.
I tend to agree with you, Al. He's got to after Dan here. The ump breaks up the conference and the pitcher readies himself. Here's the 2-2 pitch. Oh no, it looks like another curveball. Dan sits back, and he swings!
Calling All Men
Recently, I was meandering through the shelves of non-fiction, and stopped suddenly when I saw a rather small book just before all of the computer books: 100 Must-Read Books for Men. Intrigued, I picked it up and checked it out to compare my reading habits.
Within the pages of this small book are names such as Hemingway, Fleming, Melville, and London. It lists some very well-known books and some very obscure books. It is published as part of the Bloomsbury Good Reading Guides, and the editors have attempted to pique the interest of male readers. Though many people may stereotype "man books" as full of action, sex and violence, this is not the case. There is a wide variety of books that may appeal to different men altogether. They have thematic lists of books, and there are over 500 books listed for further reading as well!
After reading about some of the more obscure titles like The Ox-Bow Incident, I found myself wanting to read a lot of the books on the list. I have a lot of catching up to do. Out of 100 titles, I have only read four. There are many classics on the list, and sadly that means I haven’t read them. Maybe, I’ll try to read more in the future. Free time is hard to come by sometimes.
If you are a man (or a woman; there’s no reason that you can’t read these) looking for something to read, whether it is similar or a far cry from what you’re used to, you should check out 100 Must-Read Books for Men and see how you measure up to the list.
If you’re curious, the four that I have read are You Only Live Twice by Ian Fleming, The Motorcycle Diaries by Ernesto ‘Che’ Guevara, Cormac McCarthy’s The Road, and The Catcher in the Rye by J. D. Salinger.
Saturday, August 27, 2011
This is *NOT* on Tumblr anymore
One night, I logged into my blog so that I could tell a story about vegetables (more to come later). To my surprise, I was unable to access my dashboard in tumblr. I tried repeatedly to only find out that my account had been suspended. Why? I don't know. So, I emailed tumblr about it and their tech support was very quick to reply:
Yay! I was able to access my dashboard finally! Ten minutes later, my session timed out and I was once again suspended. I'll have you know that all I did during my dashboard session was look at some post dates in case I had to switch to blogger. I replied to their email, and again I had an expeditious response:
I found it strange that their names rhymed. I also found it strange that the 2nd response was strikingly similar to the 1st. I think it's a generated message (shock). I thought that I would give them a couple of days so that they could get their affairs in order. On my birthday (of all days), I decided to give it another shot. Not surprisingly, I was unable to access my dashboard for the third time. Again, my account was suspended. Again, I sent an email. Again, I got a response:
Obviously, Seth and Beth have *NOT* ensured that it does not happen again. As of right now, I can access my dashboard. I assume that it will only be a matter of time before they suspend me again. Oh well. Here I am, blogger.
Saturday, August 13, 2011
How *NOT* to Make Friends
On a Wednesday night, like some other Wednesday nights, there was a PTA meeting at my grade school. My mom was an active member of the PTA, and she always brought me along so that I could play on my school’s playground. I use the term playground loosely because the school could afford a seesaw which was bent beyond repair, a metal slide that burnt everyone that used it in the summer, a merry-go-round that touched the ground on one side, and a small swing set with two swings. All of this was kept on a gravel plot and somehow it managed to entertain the 80 students from Kindergarten to 8th Grade at my school.
So, on this Wednesday night during my third or fourth grade year, I went about my business, playing in the gravel or trying to jump out of the swings and touch the pavement (smart, I know). I was thoroughly enjoying myself, when two young boys came up to the playground to play as well. I can’t tell you what was going through my head, but for some reason, I decided that it would be fun to throw rocks at the two boys. Maybe they would think it is as entertaining as I thought it was? So time went on and I ended chasing the kids around the playground just tossing rocks at them.
Taking a detour to hide out behind one of the giant oak trees that were in the middle of the school parking lot, I was startled by another boy who was yelling at me. He looked like he was about my age and asked me what I was doing. Of course, I said “Nothing!” Of course, that was a lie. Of course, he proceeded to chase me down and pummel me.
As it turned out, those two boys were his little brothers. As we were wrestling and fighting on the ground, our moms come out and separate us. I guess the PTA meeting was over; or maybe they just heard our commotion. They all filed into their car and drove out of sight. I didn’t really think much about that night right away, even after my mom punished me. She probably grounded me or didn’t let me listen to music or have vegetables. My weirdness is a story for another time though.
That next Monday rolls around, and who should I see in school but THAT kid himself. This can’t bode well, right? He walked up to me and asked if I wanted to spend the night at his house. Um… sure! We were 8, and apparently the rock incident never happened. We hung out all that week, and the following weekend, I rode the bus out to Mike’s house. From that point on, we were nearly inseparable in grade school. We even a speech together, Say Goodbye, Herb; it was the first speech either of us had done. I can still recite a few lines from it actually.
It’s been a long time since we first met, but I guess I have a great story about it. Also, as a rule of thumb, this is probably *NOT* the best way to make friends.
So, on this Wednesday night during my third or fourth grade year, I went about my business, playing in the gravel or trying to jump out of the swings and touch the pavement (smart, I know). I was thoroughly enjoying myself, when two young boys came up to the playground to play as well. I can’t tell you what was going through my head, but for some reason, I decided that it would be fun to throw rocks at the two boys. Maybe they would think it is as entertaining as I thought it was? So time went on and I ended chasing the kids around the playground just tossing rocks at them.
Taking a detour to hide out behind one of the giant oak trees that were in the middle of the school parking lot, I was startled by another boy who was yelling at me. He looked like he was about my age and asked me what I was doing. Of course, I said “Nothing!” Of course, that was a lie. Of course, he proceeded to chase me down and pummel me.
As it turned out, those two boys were his little brothers. As we were wrestling and fighting on the ground, our moms come out and separate us. I guess the PTA meeting was over; or maybe they just heard our commotion. They all filed into their car and drove out of sight. I didn’t really think much about that night right away, even after my mom punished me. She probably grounded me or didn’t let me listen to music or have vegetables. My weirdness is a story for another time though.
That next Monday rolls around, and who should I see in school but THAT kid himself. This can’t bode well, right? He walked up to me and asked if I wanted to spend the night at his house. Um… sure! We were 8, and apparently the rock incident never happened. We hung out all that week, and the following weekend, I rode the bus out to Mike’s house. From that point on, we were nearly inseparable in grade school. We even a speech together, Say Goodbye, Herb; it was the first speech either of us had done. I can still recite a few lines from it actually.
It’s been a long time since we first met, but I guess I have a great story about it. Also, as a rule of thumb, this is probably *NOT* the best way to make friends.
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Yummy: The Last Days of a Southside Shorty
I saw this book pass through the library earlier this week, and I thought that it looked interesting. Honestly, what first caught my eye was the GIANT Coretta Scott King Award sticker on the front of the book. No matter what the reason was that I picked it up, I picked it up. I read the leaf and subsequently the introduction and was 100% hooked.
Yummy is a graphic novel that is about Robert Sandifer, an eleven year old boy who lives in the Roseland area of Chicago. He gets caught up in a gang, the Black Disciples, and the gang violence that goes along with it. As I started reading, I was completely grabbed. This book is based off of true events in 1994 and the author pulls together police reports, public records and court records to paint the whole picture. (Please don’t google it, you’ll spoil the fun of the book…) The narrator of the story, Roger, is fictitious and is used to piece together some events, and make others move faster. It creates continuity in the story. I didn’t think that I would like this story because I didn’t feel like it related to me at all. I mean, I am about the whitest guy I know and the closest I’ve come to gang violence is watching the news and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.
Anyway, Yummy is a shorty for the Black Disciples. I didn’t know what a shorty was either until I read this book. A shorty is a minor who is used to do the dirty work for gangs. Since they are minors, they can’t get thrown in jail. They’ll be sent to juvenile detention centers and later released. By using shorties, gangs can get a lot of jobs done without risking a member being arrested. Yummy is exceptionally good at his job, and he bullies, steals, and fights his way through life. However, he’s still eleven and hasn’t really known a real home. He still sleeps with a teddy bear at night, and doesn’t fit in anywhere. Though he’s a member of this gang, he’s still just a boy too.
As he’s looking out for the Black Disciples’ territory, he decides to make a name for himself and pull a gun at some kids playing basketball on his turf. They scatter, and he pulls the trigger. With one motion, Yummy has split his neighborhood and has become a fugitive everywhere he goes. If he didn’t feel like he belonged before, there’s no chance for him now.
Roger tells us the tale of Yummy, and how he had to move from house to house and stay away from the police. The world is a scary place for me, and I can’t imagine how scary it was for eleven year old Yummy who lived in the projects while involved with a gang.
I finished the book in two sittings. It was a very fast read, but it was fantastic. I have to say that this book made me seriously think about things in the world. It is written in such a personable way that I felt like I knew Roger; that he was telling the story to me. It’s no wonder that this book received a Coretta Scott King Award honor. I couldn’t put it down, and I felt more complete after reading it. I would recommend Yummy to anyone! I don’t care if you’re black, white, yellow or purple. It doesn’t matter if you’re rich or poor either. This book is excellent, and I hope that more people read this.
Roger Sandifer made the cover of Time magazine, and President Bill Clinton even spoke of him. Please, please, please read this book.
Yummy is a graphic novel that is about Robert Sandifer, an eleven year old boy who lives in the Roseland area of Chicago. He gets caught up in a gang, the Black Disciples, and the gang violence that goes along with it. As I started reading, I was completely grabbed. This book is based off of true events in 1994 and the author pulls together police reports, public records and court records to paint the whole picture. (Please don’t google it, you’ll spoil the fun of the book…) The narrator of the story, Roger, is fictitious and is used to piece together some events, and make others move faster. It creates continuity in the story. I didn’t think that I would like this story because I didn’t feel like it related to me at all. I mean, I am about the whitest guy I know and the closest I’ve come to gang violence is watching the news and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.
Anyway, Yummy is a shorty for the Black Disciples. I didn’t know what a shorty was either until I read this book. A shorty is a minor who is used to do the dirty work for gangs. Since they are minors, they can’t get thrown in jail. They’ll be sent to juvenile detention centers and later released. By using shorties, gangs can get a lot of jobs done without risking a member being arrested. Yummy is exceptionally good at his job, and he bullies, steals, and fights his way through life. However, he’s still eleven and hasn’t really known a real home. He still sleeps with a teddy bear at night, and doesn’t fit in anywhere. Though he’s a member of this gang, he’s still just a boy too.
As he’s looking out for the Black Disciples’ territory, he decides to make a name for himself and pull a gun at some kids playing basketball on his turf. They scatter, and he pulls the trigger. With one motion, Yummy has split his neighborhood and has become a fugitive everywhere he goes. If he didn’t feel like he belonged before, there’s no chance for him now.
Roger tells us the tale of Yummy, and how he had to move from house to house and stay away from the police. The world is a scary place for me, and I can’t imagine how scary it was for eleven year old Yummy who lived in the projects while involved with a gang.
I finished the book in two sittings. It was a very fast read, but it was fantastic. I have to say that this book made me seriously think about things in the world. It is written in such a personable way that I felt like I knew Roger; that he was telling the story to me. It’s no wonder that this book received a Coretta Scott King Award honor. I couldn’t put it down, and I felt more complete after reading it. I would recommend Yummy to anyone! I don’t care if you’re black, white, yellow or purple. It doesn’t matter if you’re rich or poor either. This book is excellent, and I hope that more people read this.
Roger Sandifer made the cover of Time magazine, and President Bill Clinton even spoke of him. Please, please, please read this book.
Sunday, August 7, 2011
A Story
Today at the library, a patron came in and looked like she was feeling down. A co-worker asked if she was OK as she approached the desk. With a heavy sigh, the patron said that she had been better as she laid her library books, potentially her last, on the counter. Concerned, my co-worker asked why she was down…
“I’ve lost a book, and I can’t find it anywhere. I can’t afford to pay for it, so I’m here to turn in my library card.”
Fighting back tears, she retrieved her card from her purse and placed it on the counter. Before we could investigate further, she broke down and was in tears as she moved through the doors.
A devoted patron, she visits the library at least weekly, sometimes twice a week. She was gone before I, or anyone else, could stop her. Reserved to the fact that we wouldn’t catch her, we then discovered that the fine for her book was not nearly enough to block her account. My co-worker even offered to pay it since, obviously, the library means so much to this person.
With card in hand, something needed to be done. After thorough investigation, it was decided that the patron needed to be called. I was not there for the conversation, but apparently she thought that if she had any outstanding book and couldn’t find it, that she would be unable to use the library’s services. She was told that we would like her to pick up her card, and the borrowing details were further explained to her.
As I made my way through the stacks, she came and picked up her card. Oddly enough, as she was frantically searching her house for the missing book, she found it and brought it with her. She turned it in and carried on, looking for some new books to enjoy once again.
…
This is the first time that I have ever had an experience like this. I have never witnessed a grown person cry over the fact that they would miss out on what a library offers. I have come to realize that libraries are incredibly needed in society, and that there are a lot of people that rely on libraries for a plethora of reasons. However, I never knew how much the library could mean to one person. Libraries truly are wonderful, and even though I am not as avid of a reader as I wish I was, I can appreciate the many services that libraries provide, and for free! I also wish that more people could hear these stories about just how wonderful libraries are.
Libraries are *NOT* just a place to read or use the computer. They have become so much more, and I want people to realize that the possibilities are endless in the library world. Whether you are in the branch or online, libraries strive to provide you with the best services around, and the only thing that they ask is a few tax dollars. If someone reads this, please pass it on. If not, at least I have put the story out here for consideration.
“I’ve lost a book, and I can’t find it anywhere. I can’t afford to pay for it, so I’m here to turn in my library card.”
Fighting back tears, she retrieved her card from her purse and placed it on the counter. Before we could investigate further, she broke down and was in tears as she moved through the doors.
A devoted patron, she visits the library at least weekly, sometimes twice a week. She was gone before I, or anyone else, could stop her. Reserved to the fact that we wouldn’t catch her, we then discovered that the fine for her book was not nearly enough to block her account. My co-worker even offered to pay it since, obviously, the library means so much to this person.
With card in hand, something needed to be done. After thorough investigation, it was decided that the patron needed to be called. I was not there for the conversation, but apparently she thought that if she had any outstanding book and couldn’t find it, that she would be unable to use the library’s services. She was told that we would like her to pick up her card, and the borrowing details were further explained to her.
As I made my way through the stacks, she came and picked up her card. Oddly enough, as she was frantically searching her house for the missing book, she found it and brought it with her. She turned it in and carried on, looking for some new books to enjoy once again.
…
This is the first time that I have ever had an experience like this. I have never witnessed a grown person cry over the fact that they would miss out on what a library offers. I have come to realize that libraries are incredibly needed in society, and that there are a lot of people that rely on libraries for a plethora of reasons. However, I never knew how much the library could mean to one person. Libraries truly are wonderful, and even though I am not as avid of a reader as I wish I was, I can appreciate the many services that libraries provide, and for free! I also wish that more people could hear these stories about just how wonderful libraries are.
Libraries are *NOT* just a place to read or use the computer. They have become so much more, and I want people to realize that the possibilities are endless in the library world. Whether you are in the branch or online, libraries strive to provide you with the best services around, and the only thing that they ask is a few tax dollars. If someone reads this, please pass it on. If not, at least I have put the story out here for consideration.
Friday, August 5, 2011
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
4 Year Old Conversations
This entry is *NOT* about conversations between 4 year olds, sorry to disappoint… I think that there are some YouTube videos about that, though.
This is about conversations that may not seem significant at the time, but by some strange random happenstance, they come flooding back to you and seem more meaningful than you originally thought. Maybe it’s better that those conversations didn’t mean as much back then; they can mean even more now. Sometimes the universe just has fun with us, and all we can do is smile. It’s been quite a while since I’ve gone to bed with a smile on my face like this, and I hope that it stays that way.
This is about conversations that may not seem significant at the time, but by some strange random happenstance, they come flooding back to you and seem more meaningful than you originally thought. Maybe it’s better that those conversations didn’t mean as much back then; they can mean even more now. Sometimes the universe just has fun with us, and all we can do is smile. It’s been quite a while since I’ve gone to bed with a smile on my face like this, and I hope that it stays that way.
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
This Link Is Too Long for Twitt…
August 02, 2011
Twitter, the online micro-blogging tool, has changed the way that we communicate online. Users can update (or tweet) multiple times a day, hourly, or by the minute to let others know what is on their mind or what they are doing. This is great as long as you stay under 140 characters, including spaces.
However, if you have found a really great website or want to share a link to a database, 140 characters may not be enough. Some links tend to get excruciatingly long, and even after converting some of your words to text talk (c u l8r), your tweet may end up looking like the above title: cut off.
Luckily, there are resources out there that allow users to share extra long links to their hearts’ content. One such resource is bit.ly. By going to their website, users can copy their long URLs and paste them into the box on the screen. After clicking on the Shorten button, bit.ly will produce a much shorter link (usually 13 characters) that can be used on twitter. In this way, users can tweet a link and still have room to comment about it. For example: ”I just read this great article on tsunamis! You should check it out: bit.ly/giscID.” The length of the actual link is far longer, and would make it harder to comment on twitter.
If you are on twitter and don’t know about bit.ly yet, you should take a look at it. While you’re there, you should follow our branch (@MCPLBS) too!
Twitter, the online micro-blogging tool, has changed the way that we communicate online. Users can update (or tweet) multiple times a day, hourly, or by the minute to let others know what is on their mind or what they are doing. This is great as long as you stay under 140 characters, including spaces.
However, if you have found a really great website or want to share a link to a database, 140 characters may not be enough. Some links tend to get excruciatingly long, and even after converting some of your words to text talk (c u l8r), your tweet may end up looking like the above title: cut off.
Luckily, there are resources out there that allow users to share extra long links to their hearts’ content. One such resource is bit.ly. By going to their website, users can copy their long URLs and paste them into the box on the screen. After clicking on the Shorten button, bit.ly will produce a much shorter link (usually 13 characters) that can be used on twitter. In this way, users can tweet a link and still have room to comment about it. For example: ”I just read this great article on tsunamis! You should check it out: bit.ly/giscID.” The length of the actual link is far longer, and would make it harder to comment on twitter.
If you are on twitter and don’t know about bit.ly yet, you should take a look at it. While you’re there, you should follow our branch (@MCPLBS) too!
Monday, August 1, 2011
Saturday, July 30, 2011
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Have You Read This Yet?
June 07, 2011
I had one of our teenaged patrons bring forth a challenge to me recently. He is an avid reader and dared me to find some teen books that he had not read yet.
We walked back to our Young Adult section, and I rattled off some titles that I personally love, but he had read most of those books. After mulling around the stacks (and my brain), I was finally able to find some books that he had not read yet.
I have since put a tally in the WIN column, and would like to share the titles with you if you’re looking for even more to read at the library.
Gregor the Overlander by Suzanne Collins
Inkheart by Cornelia Funke
The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman
Redwall by Brian Jacques
The Selected Works of T.S. Spivet by Reif Larsen
Cirque du Freak by Darren Shan
Lord Loss (the first of the Demonata series) by Darren Shan
Vampirates: Demons of the Ocean by Justin Somper
Keeper of the Grail by Michael Spradlin
I had one of our teenaged patrons bring forth a challenge to me recently. He is an avid reader and dared me to find some teen books that he had not read yet. We walked back to our Young Adult section, and I rattled off some titles that I personally love, but he had read most of those books. After mulling around the stacks (and my brain), I was finally able to find some books that he had not read yet.
I have since put a tally in the WIN column, and would like to share the titles with you if you’re looking for even more to read at the library.
Gregor the Overlander by Suzanne Collins
Inkheart by Cornelia Funke
The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman
Redwall by Brian Jacques
The Selected Works of T.S. Spivet by Reif Larsen
Cirque du Freak by Darren Shan
Lord Loss (the first of the Demonata series) by Darren Shan
Vampirates: Demons of the Ocean by Justin Somper
Keeper of the Grail by Michael Spradlin
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
The Surge of Graphic Novels
May 24, 2011
In 1971, Gil Kane and Archie Goodwin wrote and illustrated Blackmark, a novel that combined comic art with word balloons in an adult format. It was not the first book to use the term “graphic novel”, but has since been agreed upon as the first graphic novel.
If you haven’t noticed yet, MCPL has begun collecting these Adult Graphic Novels in its collection. They are distinctly different from our teen graphic novels, which tend to be more superhero related or manga. There has been increased demand for these graphic novels recently, and just as MCPL has opened its catalog to eBooks, the library has given a home to this literary medium as well. There has been controversy about adult graphic novels and their place in the public library, but I find them to be a valid and unique medium of expression.
Hollywood is to blame for the recent rabid popularity of graphic novels. Movies like 300, V For Vendetta, Sin City, and Watchmen are all based on graphic novels. However, graphic novels have been around much longer than just a few years. Throughout the 1900s, graphic novels have been published branching away from their comic book counterparts. They have won critics’ acclaim, and some have won literary awards. In fact, Maus by Art Spiegelman won a Pulitzer Prize in 1992.
As manga has grown in popularity, so have the adult graphic novels. Many mainstream authors are cashing in on the opportunity to gain even more readers. You will recognize a lot of the author’s names like James Patterson, Laurel K. Hamilton, Dean Koontz, and Janet Evanovich. Some have escaped the limelight of popular fiction such as Brian Vaughan and Alcante.
Graphic novels are a unique way to tell a story, and illustrators can use colors in a variety of ways to exude certain feelings that an author wants to convey. Picto-fiction, as it used to be called, is an exciting way to get readers into books again. A 1000 page hardcover book can be transformed into a 6 volume mini-series of graphic novels, which is much less daunting. In a way, these graphic novels bridge the gap between books and movies by creating a vivid hybrid of the two media. Many of the works include social and political commentary as well.
I hope you take the opportunity to explore these new additions to the library’s collection.
In 1971, Gil Kane and Archie Goodwin wrote and illustrated Blackmark, a novel that combined comic art with word balloons in an adult format. It was not the first book to use the term “graphic novel”, but has since been agreed upon as the first graphic novel.If you haven’t noticed yet, MCPL has begun collecting these Adult Graphic Novels in its collection. They are distinctly different from our teen graphic novels, which tend to be more superhero related or manga. There has been increased demand for these graphic novels recently, and just as MCPL has opened its catalog to eBooks, the library has given a home to this literary medium as well. There has been controversy about adult graphic novels and their place in the public library, but I find them to be a valid and unique medium of expression.
Hollywood is to blame for the recent rabid popularity of graphic novels. Movies like 300, V For Vendetta, Sin City, and Watchmen are all based on graphic novels. However, graphic novels have been around much longer than just a few years. Throughout the 1900s, graphic novels have been published branching away from their comic book counterparts. They have won critics’ acclaim, and some have won literary awards. In fact, Maus by Art Spiegelman won a Pulitzer Prize in 1992.
As manga has grown in popularity, so have the adult graphic novels. Many mainstream authors are cashing in on the opportunity to gain even more readers. You will recognize a lot of the author’s names like James Patterson, Laurel K. Hamilton, Dean Koontz, and Janet Evanovich. Some have escaped the limelight of popular fiction such as Brian Vaughan and Alcante.
Graphic novels are a unique way to tell a story, and illustrators can use colors in a variety of ways to exude certain feelings that an author wants to convey. Picto-fiction, as it used to be called, is an exciting way to get readers into books again. A 1000 page hardcover book can be transformed into a 6 volume mini-series of graphic novels, which is much less daunting. In a way, these graphic novels bridge the gap between books and movies by creating a vivid hybrid of the two media. Many of the works include social and political commentary as well.
I hope you take the opportunity to explore these new additions to the library’s collection.
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Geo-what?
May 04, 2011
Spring is upon us, and there’s no better time to get out and enjoy the weather and nature itself. There is a great way to do so and gain a sense of adventure at the same time. If you have a GPS or a smart phone, you can participate in the worldwide adventure of geocaching (pronounced gee-oh-cashing)!
What is geocaching? It’s been around for hundreds of years, but in the past 20 years it has really boomed in popularity. Geocaching is a high-tech treasure hunting endeavor that utilizes GPS coordinates. Players hide geocaches in parks or on trails, and mark them with coordinates. If you want to join in the fun, you can look up cache locations on the internet at geocaching.com and load them into your GPS or smart phone.
Every cache has a different “treasure,” though the treasure is not monetary. Treasures are usually items that can be traded, or they can be special trinkets that are on traveling missions. Every cache has a logbook, so take a pen or pencil to mark that you found it. Always put the caches back just as you found them for the next seekers to find!
Geocaching is a great way to enjoy the outdoors, see new places, and, most importantly, have fun. The game is ever changing because new caches are hidden every day, and there are already millions located worldwide! For more information, you can check out our catalog for geocaching books,geocaching.com, or even Blue Springs Parks and Recreation. Happy hunting and good luck!
Spring is upon us, and there’s no better time to get out and enjoy the weather and nature itself. There is a great way to do so and gain a sense of adventure at the same time. If you have a GPS or a smart phone, you can participate in the worldwide adventure of geocaching (pronounced gee-oh-cashing)!
What is geocaching? It’s been around for hundreds of years, but in the past 20 years it has really boomed in popularity. Geocaching is a high-tech treasure hunting endeavor that utilizes GPS coordinates. Players hide geocaches in parks or on trails, and mark them with coordinates. If you want to join in the fun, you can look up cache locations on the internet at geocaching.com and load them into your GPS or smart phone.
Every cache has a different “treasure,” though the treasure is not monetary. Treasures are usually items that can be traded, or they can be special trinkets that are on traveling missions. Every cache has a logbook, so take a pen or pencil to mark that you found it. Always put the caches back just as you found them for the next seekers to find!
Geocaching is a great way to enjoy the outdoors, see new places, and, most importantly, have fun. The game is ever changing because new caches are hidden every day, and there are already millions located worldwide! For more information, you can check out our catalog for geocaching books,geocaching.com, or even Blue Springs Parks and Recreation. Happy hunting and good luck!
Monday, July 18, 2011
QR Qrazy!
March 21, 2011
Have you looked through your favorite magazine lately and found these on the pages? Within articles and advertisements, you may find these alien squares with smaller black and white squares within them. Publishers will have them scattered through their magazines to give added insight to articles, or offer a chance to enter some giveaway. Some advertisers will use an entire page just to present a single alien square. Others use them as supplements to their physical ads. Book publishers and authors are even jumping on the media bandwagon. What are these crazy things, and where did they come from?
Well, way back in 1994 (around the time eBay was founded), a Japanese company developed these Quick Response Codes. We know them today by their abbreviation: QR Codes. These square codes were initially used to track automotive parts through their assembly process, but have since been repurposed in a variety of ways. For example, these little squares ranging from 1” to 3” can store many different kinds of information. I have actually created and used QR Codes recently at http://zxing.appspot.com/generator/. ZXing (pronounced Zebra Crossing) is a web project that users participate in to make the codes more readily available and customizable. I created one QR Code that contained all of my contact information. Another one contained an upcoming event. Still another code linked to one of my favorite websites. Feel free to create one of your own and send it to friends!
With a barcode scanner on your smartphone, you can read these QR Codes. Once you scan the code, it will take you to the website, or add a person to your contacts, or even add an event to your calendar depending on what the code contains. Sometimes, it will give you multiple choices for a single code. MCPL has joined the trend, too! Don’t be surprised if you find more and more of these codes on our posters and publications. You can obtain a barcode scanner from your smartphone’s app store or market. The one that I have is simply called “Barcode Scanner” and is freely provided by ZXing.
If you would like more information, visit www.QRcode.com/index-e.html. If you have a barcode scanner already, you can scan the QR Code above. If you don’t, be sure to come back after downloading it and scan the code above. After you’re done here, go check out some magazines and start scanning. You never know what you’ll find or what you may win just by scanning a little techie square.
Well, way back in 1994 (around the time eBay was founded), a Japanese company developed these Quick Response Codes. We know them today by their abbreviation: QR Codes. These square codes were initially used to track automotive parts through their assembly process, but have since been repurposed in a variety of ways. For example, these little squares ranging from 1” to 3” can store many different kinds of information. I have actually created and used QR Codes recently at http://zxing.appspot.com/generator/. ZXing (pronounced Zebra Crossing) is a web project that users participate in to make the codes more readily available and customizable. I created one QR Code that contained all of my contact information. Another one contained an upcoming event. Still another code linked to one of my favorite websites. Feel free to create one of your own and send it to friends!
With a barcode scanner on your smartphone, you can read these QR Codes. Once you scan the code, it will take you to the website, or add a person to your contacts, or even add an event to your calendar depending on what the code contains. Sometimes, it will give you multiple choices for a single code. MCPL has joined the trend, too! Don’t be surprised if you find more and more of these codes on our posters and publications. You can obtain a barcode scanner from your smartphone’s app store or market. The one that I have is simply called “Barcode Scanner” and is freely provided by ZXing.
If you would like more information, visit www.QRcode.com/index-e.html. If you have a barcode scanner already, you can scan the QR Code above. If you don’t, be sure to come back after downloading it and scan the code above. After you’re done here, go check out some magazines and start scanning. You never know what you’ll find or what you may win just by scanning a little techie square.
Friday, July 8, 2011
An Enigma of Aviation
February 28, 2011
What do airplanes, satellites, World War I epics, oil drilling, and Obsessive Compulsive Disorder have in common? One man named Howard R. Hughes, Jr.
Howard Hughes was born in 1905 to incredibly successful parents. In fact, his father invented an oil drill bit that revolutionized the industry. After inheriting his father’s company and the millions of dollars with it, Howard turned his sight from business to Hollywood. He produced a myriad of movies, but his greatest success and expense was Hell’s Angels, a World War I epic in 1930. The movie required over $4 million, 18 months of filming, and over 100 planes, which Hughes commissioned to be built.
Hughes’s fascination with planes continued throughout his life. Hughes broke the air speed record in a plane that he had designed, and he acquired Trans World Airlines where he invented the precursor to the modern commercial airliner. He also designed the Spruce Goose, a giant wooden plane that was supposed to carry military and supplies behind enemy lines.
Hughes and his companies also engineered the shell for the Voyager satellites and laid the groundwork for satellite television. Hughes managed all of this and more while living with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.
You can find out even more about Howard Hughes at the library. Check out the movies, The Aviator or The Amazing Howard Hughes. The library also has numerous documentaries about the enigma that was Howard Hughes, and you can look up his biography in the American National Biography database.
What do airplanes, satellites, World War I epics, oil drilling, and Obsessive Compulsive Disorder have in common? One man named Howard R. Hughes, Jr.Howard Hughes was born in 1905 to incredibly successful parents. In fact, his father invented an oil drill bit that revolutionized the industry. After inheriting his father’s company and the millions of dollars with it, Howard turned his sight from business to Hollywood. He produced a myriad of movies, but his greatest success and expense was Hell’s Angels, a World War I epic in 1930. The movie required over $4 million, 18 months of filming, and over 100 planes, which Hughes commissioned to be built.
Hughes’s fascination with planes continued throughout his life. Hughes broke the air speed record in a plane that he had designed, and he acquired Trans World Airlines where he invented the precursor to the modern commercial airliner. He also designed the Spruce Goose, a giant wooden plane that was supposed to carry military and supplies behind enemy lines.
Hughes and his companies also engineered the shell for the Voyager satellites and laid the groundwork for satellite television. Hughes managed all of this and more while living with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.
You can find out even more about Howard Hughes at the library. Check out the movies, The Aviator or The Amazing Howard Hughes. The library also has numerous documentaries about the enigma that was Howard Hughes, and you can look up his biography in the American National Biography database.
Thursday, July 7, 2011
How the States Got Their Shapes
November 09, 2010
Why does Missouri have the boot heel? Why is Michigan in two parts? How come Texas is so big, but Rhode Island is so small? If you’ve ever wondered about the eccentricities of the 50 states or would like to learn about them, then we have the perfect book for you.
How the States Got Their Shapes is a fascinating book that addresses many of the questions about just that. It explains why some states have mostly straight borders, while others are surrounded by rivers. It also looks at the driving forces behind naming and shaping the states. The History Channel even aired a miniseries based on the book. After you read How the States Got Their Shapes, perhaps a road trip is in order to explore the boundaries of the states.
If a road trip is not what you’re looking for, you can pick up Lost States by Michael J. Trinklein. It is a brand new book, and it gives a fun history lesson about the states that never were like Franklin, Chippewa, Montezuma and Yazoo.
Why does Missouri have the boot heel? Why is Michigan in two parts? How come Texas is so big, but Rhode Island is so small? If you’ve ever wondered about the eccentricities of the 50 states or would like to learn about them, then we have the perfect book for you.
How the States Got Their Shapes is a fascinating book that addresses many of the questions about just that. It explains why some states have mostly straight borders, while others are surrounded by rivers. It also looks at the driving forces behind naming and shaping the states. The History Channel even aired a miniseries based on the book. After you read How the States Got Their Shapes, perhaps a road trip is in order to explore the boundaries of the states.
If a road trip is not what you’re looking for, you can pick up Lost States by Michael J. Trinklein. It is a brand new book, and it gives a fun history lesson about the states that never were like Franklin, Chippewa, Montezuma and Yazoo.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Mo Knows Learning
October 25, 2010
You may or may not have heard of Mo Willems, but you most likely have seen his works. He has become very well known for his award winning children’s books. His works include the Pigeon series, Elephant & Piggie books, and Knuffle Bunny. Recently, he has written Big Frog Can’t Fit In, a pop-up book.
Besides his children book awards, did you know that he has won six Emmys? It’s true! Mo worked on Sesame Street, and while he was there, he won the Emmy Awards for his writing. Willems has a talent for connecting with children, and making memorable stories that enrich children with common concepts of personal relationships. Come check out Mo Willems for the kids, or for your own personal enrichment!
You may or may not have heard of Mo Willems, but you most likely have seen his works. He has become very well known for his award winning children’s books. His works include the Pigeon series, Elephant & Piggie books, and Knuffle Bunny. Recently, he has written Big Frog Can’t Fit In, a pop-up book.Besides his children book awards, did you know that he has won six Emmys? It’s true! Mo worked on Sesame Street, and while he was there, he won the Emmy Awards for his writing. Willems has a talent for connecting with children, and making memorable stories that enrich children with common concepts of personal relationships. Come check out Mo Willems for the kids, or for your own personal enrichment!
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